I'll be home for Christmas 2  Chief
by Kaglen
Summary: The second of five short stories


Chief walked slowly along the gravel path, his footfall almost silent even though there was no need for stealth. He had just shared a Christmas meal with his three colleagues, the food was good and the beer and wine had flowed liberally. Casino and Goniff had been, noisy, funny and argumentative as usual, while Actor, as the accepted second in command in Garrison's absence, watched over his charges with mild amusement. Once the meal was over each man had taken the opportunity for some time alone, Goniff disappeared with a book tucked under his arm, Casino went for a walk and Actor had an afternoon of peaceful seclusion to enjoy. Chief liked the camaraderie and the sense of being part of a team but he was much happier to be outdoors at last; away from the confines of walls and the restrictions other people imposed, if unintentional. The four men lived and worked together so closely privacy was essential from time to time and although Chief was the youngest member of the group he needed and sought solitude more than the others.

He stopped and gazed at the landscape he now knew so well, it didn't hold the awe-inspiring grandeur of his birthplace; it was understated, much softer and very beautiful even in the stark chill of winter. The late afternoon held a stillness that was hard to find in a war-torn world. Only a few days earlier he and his three colleagues had been caught up in the noise and horror of battle. Lieutenant Garrison was reported missing in action weeks ago and the convicts had expected to be sent back to prison, but time passed and they decided they had either been forgotten or ignored. Then they received the news that Garrison had made contact but was still behind enemy lines, so the four men had been sent to bring their 'Warden' back to safety and as they did found themselves in the middle of the German counter-offensive in the Ardennes. Despite the carnage and confusion they had managed to get back to Allied held territory but the Lt. had been injured and was unconscious. He was now in hospital only a few miles away but there was still no news of any improvement in his condition.

The path began to climb; at the top of the rise Chief paused for a moment, the gentle landscape rolled away towards a blue hazed horizon and in the foreground was the beautiful old manor house that was his temporary home. The honey coloured stone seemed to glow in the soft light of late winter sun. A smile of irony touched his lips, how many young men with his background had the chance to call a place like that 'home'. He'd lived in so many places he'd lost count, from the beauty of his place of birth where he was cared for, safe and secure with his mother and father, to the loneliness and insecurity of being a young man alone in New York City. How different life may have been if his parents had not been killed in a freak accident. He was only eleven when they died, his sister just eight, at first they stayed with relatives, then they had to go into children's homes. As the years went by they were separated and somehow lost contact, Chief still had no idea what happened to his sister, he didn't even know if she was still alive. The pain of his loss, though dulled by time, still hurt and the young man gazed out across the rolling hills seeking comfort in the still silence of the day.

He was a man of few words who, despite his youth, rarely showed emotion no matter how deep. A man who, for a long time, did not feel as though he belonged anywhere and yet over the past months he had come to experience that elusive sense of belonging. The men with whom he had just shared a meal and Lt Garrison had made that possible and he would always be grateful to them. In their eyes and more importantly in his own he was no longer a 'dumb Indian' or 'Redskin'. Sure, there were times when he and Casino had spats, just as they had in the early days when his Native American heritage was an easy target for the safecracker who would taunt him with names and jibes purposely goading the younger man to fight. An ironic smile flickered across his face; he didn't mind the nickname 'Chief' but that was because it didn't hurt anymore.

He walked on, following the path through a wooded area until he came to an arched gate in the perimeter wall of the estate. Using a trick he had learned from Casino he picked the lock and was soon out of the grounds on the road to the village. At the crossroads he turned left and climbed the slight incline towards the beautiful old church of St Edmund.

What had brought him here? He didn't need to go into a church for his church was all around him but Chief could feel the sense of age old spirituality here. He moved to the building itself and placed his hand on the ancient stones, how many people had come here to find peace, seek guidance or, as the people inside were doing now, worship and praise God. He had seen the candlelight in the windows and could hear the organ playing as the congregation assembled. Had Christmas brought him here as it had brought those inside? Many people thought Native Americans knew nothing about Christmas, 'heathen' was a common taunt, and yet some had become Christians with the arrival of the first settlers, over three hundred years ago. Chief knew about Christmas, he'd lived in a home run by a Methodist Minister and his wife and they had taught all the children about the Nativity often using Carols to explain the wondrous story.

The young man stood in the gathering shadows; he'd been thinking about the past, dare he hope for a future if he survived the war. Once his parents had died he had spent most of his life on the move, from one children's home to another, once he had broken the law he'd had to go on the run until prison stopped him. He had no roots and nowhere he could call home. Chief knew he didn't want to stay in the army, he could hide behind the anonymity of the uniform but that was tantamount to running away from the world and from himself. He would still have no permanent home and that need had suddenly become very important. Maybe he could go back west, to the place of his birth and work with young Native Americans using his experiences to try and help them keep out of trouble. He could begin to put down roots and make a home; all he needed was faith in himself. Lt Garrison had put his faith and trust into four men who were judged to be untrustworthy he had taken a chance; it was time to stop running and do the same.

Chief stepped back, the stained glass windows glowed in the gathering dusk as the candles flickered and burned. There was the promise of a sharp frost on the air and the evening star was already bright in the darkening sky. He could hear the organ playing a familiar tune 'O Little Town of Bethlehem' he stood and listened to the congregation sing the words he had learned as a child, '_The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight'. _He had hopes and he knew there would be fears but he had a goal now and a sense of purpose. Chief's exceptional hearing then picked up the sound of footsteps; he turned to see a young woman hurrying along the path and heading for the church. She could not fail to see him so it was pointless to try to avoid her.

"Good afternoon, or is it evening now?" The lady stopped and greeted Chief with a gentle smile. "Oh Dear, they've already started the service and I am always late no matter how hard I try."

"Ma'am." Chief touched the front of his Field Service cap in salute.

"You're a long way from home, Soldier. Are you going to the service?"

Chief hesitated; there was the word 'home' again. He looked down at her upturned face as she waited for his response. He still didn't need or want to go into the church; he had found the answers he had been looking for within himself, answers that has been there all the time but had proved so hard to find.

"No Ma'am." He said quietly.

The lady studied him for a moment.

"You are very welcome to come in you know."

"Thank you but I think I'll stay out here."

"It is beautiful," she acknowledged, "it's getting very cold though, so if you will excuse me I'll go inside, not that it will be much warmer because there is no heating." The young woman smiled again and then made to leave but turned back, "Merry Christmas," she said softly.

Chief's dark eyes met her steady gaze for a moment.

"Thank you, Ma'am. Merry Christmas."


End file.
